The Memphis appeal. [volume] (Memphis, Tenn.) 1886-1890, 1887-11-06
ELSA CoNINGHAMs VISIONS.

A great sorrow had come into my life.
There is nothing remarkable in that.
What heart can be found without its bit
terncss? But wherein my sorrow differed
from most was this, that il was all concen-
trated in one blow, as ii in compensation
for the unbroken happiness which had
preceded il. For me there had been one
day-one long, cloudless day-followed
by night which / know can never give
place to day again, until the eternal day
dawns.
But am not about to write my own
story-it will never be written. Yet but
for my own story should not have the
other TO tell. a
II was this sympathy, born in the dark
ness Of my own despair, which brought
me into close relations with Elsa Coming
ham and thus gave me the weird expert
encc | am about to narrate.
ID was ut Zcrmatt that | first met her.
She was staying, with her husband and
little son, at the same hotel Us myself. !
had come there to chaperone my niece,
Rhoda Thompson, who was an enthusiastic
climber, and had, with her, made most OF
the asccnts at all possible TO women. Mr..
Cunningham was member Of the Alpine
club, and chose TO express admiration of
our exploits. We were thrown "a good
deal together, for we not only made the
same PARTY in several expeditions, but
when we were confined 10 our hotel by the
weather Mr. Cunningham would read aloud
10 NJ all together, or, with his boy between
his knees, tell one story after another OF
lively adventure.
AT these times Elsa would appear fully
at peace, IL not absolutely happy; but com
ing upon her alone always noticed n look
Of troubled anxiety upon her face.
She was pretty woman-about thirty, |
think, but | never was told her age and
she had the most sensitive face in the
world. She was French, though her hus-
band was English, and she spoke the pref
tiesi broken English imaginable. Her hus-
band adored her; her child was beautiful
and strong. She was evidently favoritc
OF Fortune.
Yet certainly detected in her dark,
restless eyes a something very like fear. |
think that from the iirst she knew that
saw in her what others nd not, and she
was grateful for my unspokcn sympathy,
for sometimes she would slip her fiuttering
little hand into mine, where II would rest
for minutes together, and then She would
gaze out at the mountain peaks with I'M
uttcrablc sadness. She never made any
manned with her boy.
One evening Mrs. Cunningham and were
watching for the return Of her husband
and his party-my niece and two other
ladies were with them. | had remained
behind at Mrs. Coningham's- rcqucst-the
first request she had made me. Mamma
Is afraid Of going TO sleep, think" whis-
pered little Carl. at makes her 50 III To
go 10 sleep sometimes"
| smiled for answer 20 this odd speech,
but even as | smiled an alarm ! could not
account for seized me, and looked toward
the child's mother. She had swoonedl
hastily took upa glass OF water which
happened TO be upon the table, and was
about TO sprinkle her face, when Carl put
back my hand with his small finger, say
ing, with the strongest look ever saw on
A child's face, "No, Miss Thompson; Il il
OF no use TO try 10 wake mamma when she
goes 10 sleep 40. Papa holds her hand till
she wakes she is afraid when she first
wakes"
/ did make an effort 10 arouse her, how
ever, which was Of no avail.
III told YOU ~" said little Carl in tri-
umph. "You Et aud hold mammals hand,
AMI when she wakes say Elsa very
/ snt down as directed, and took the H..
lie delicate hand in mine. How cold II
was
Carl" said in alarm, "arc You quite
SURF your mother j. often like this, and
that She wakes all right2'
IL have told thee 10, replied the child
with quiet dignity. "And when papa
comes YOU will not say that mamma has
becn aslNp. She will say this 10 him her
salf and he knows II now''
The little fellow nodded at me impress
siycly. ms II he could tell more did lac ~
shoosc. hut did not think II right Il
ours,ion him, much ~ the mystery cN
cited my curiosity. Moreover, ] scarccl,
ihinl; the child would have told me more
even had done ~.
| sal still, bordering and continuing e
keen the sinall hand within mine.
In about half an hour ! felt the hand VI
brnte strangely. Carl, who had beer
watching his mother, whispered, SAY
Elsa.
ELSA. " | said, In a voice that | kno'
had grown very tender since my trouble
The white cyclids trembled; the swec
eyes were revealed In nll their sirang
mysterious beauty. Then n smile flickcrc
over her face. and she said: "l.et u h
always Elsa How feel myself well Wit
you"
"You shall he Elsa dear, and mus
be Joan, made answer. And then
stopped and kissed her.
"Iou will be near me when they shall n
turn, isn't it?" she next said. They NJ
already latc-but they will not yet b
here"
They were late; 7 knew u, and ha
prown anxious, but had avoided sayin
anything about Il for fear Of alarming he
iBut they viii return safely" she a'
dcd. ~ II reading my thoughts.
was completely mystiiied, but forboI
o. question her.
"HIow comfortable il your voice, joan
shc said, lingering ON my name M II
wcrc n pleasure to her 20 speak II. III
were going to die ] should like you to !
near me ~ now.
looked at the fair, youthful face,
which the color had returned, glowing an
very pleasant to see, and could not IN
acine her a. dying, though ! had seen d,
sIeep that strange sleep 10 like Ia dealt
She appeared 10 be in perfect health "
perplexng sadness was, ] felt convince
OF the mind. wished she would comic
In me; why didn't she, since she scent
- 10 care for me 10 much2 go.
Then remembered my own inability
- conGde my own sorrow to any ear ana